“If you wanted to pay, then you might as well have stayed home and cooked.” Darby muttered.
He had a point there.
On the weekdays, Desi cooked breakfast for the Valentine cowboys and clan. She worked her ass off there, then came to work and worked her ass off as well only to turn around and do it all over again for dinner. The woman could use a break.
“That’s true, Des,” I pointed out. “You were just telling me today how exhausted you were.”
Desi shot an unamused look my way. “Hey, traitor! I told you that in confidence!”
My lips twitched. “You also told me that you weren’t going to tell anybody about our dinner plans tonight…yet you showed up here with your Valentine boys in tow.”
Codie, Ace’s wife and Desi’s best friend, started to laugh.
“She’s got you there, Desidara,” Codie teased. “You were the one who convinced us to come here.”
Desi’s cheeks heated.
“So therefore, you should let me pay for dinner,” Callum said as he placed his napkin back into his lap. “Do you think they serve steak here? I’m starving.”
“Why don’t you look at your menu, moron?” Banks suggested.
My eyes went to the man I’d been avoiding, and I couldn’t help but stare.
He was in a black cowboy hat—much cleaner than the usual dusty brown one he wore—a pair of starched and pressed denim jeans, and a black long-sleeved button-up shirt. He looked absolutely divine, and I wanted to take a picture so I could capture the perfection for eternity.
But just as I was surreptitiously slipping my phone out of my pocket and aiming it in his direction, he suddenly looked my way.
His brows rose when he caught my phone out.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Uhh,” I said. “Taking a selfie.”
His brows rose, and I quickly switched it to the front view camera and turned it around for him to inspect.
“Liar,” I heard Darby say from beside me.
I shrugged and picked up my menu as I placed my phone down onto the table next to my bread plate.
“Whatever,” I said. “What are you getting?”
Darby shrugged and went back to his menu.
I looked over at Amity to see her dreamily leaning into Mack, who wrapped his arm around her and tugged her into his side tight.
I felt something inside my chest settle at seeing her doing okay with all the people that had joined our table.
When I finally allowed my eyes to come off of them, I found myself staring straight at Banks who didn’t try to conceal the fact that he was staring at me.
“What are you getting?” Darby asked, breaking our eye contact.
I quickly picked up my menu.
“Ummm,” I hesitated. “A salad.”
He scoffed, making me laugh.
“Salads are for losers,” he said.
I shrugged. “I like their salad here. Plus, I’m also ordering dessert.”
“Oh, God,” Darby moaned. “You’re a loser like Banks!”
My brows rose as I looked at him, then looked at Banks.
“What?” I asked, sounding just as confused as I felt.
“Banks orders dessert first. And when everyone else orders dessert, he sometimes orders food,” Ace said, entering the conversation.
My lips curved into a small smile as I said, “Do you want to share that big one?”
I pointed to the display in the middle of the table which was the restaurant’s biggest hit.
But, the problem was, it was made for like five people, and I couldn’t eat the damn thing by myself.
Banks’ eyes flipped to where I was pointing, then back up at me.
Then he shrugged. “I could eat that.”
The dessert display was a sample platter. Except it wasn’t a ‘sample size’ as much as just a normal size portion of the actual dessert.
It had fried cheesecake bites, a quarter of a triple layer chocolate cake. Chocolate mousse. Homemade vanilla ice cream. Dessert pizza made of cookie dough and Nutella. Chocolate-covered strawberries. And three different pieces of pie—our choice of which, of course.
Honestly, it was probably over three thousand calories, but I was so excited to try it I couldn’t sit still in my seat.
“Jesus Christ,” Darby said. “Y’all are going to be in a food baby coma when y’all are done eating that.”
“Good thing you’re sitting across from each other,” Amity said softly, bringing all eyes her way. “It was like fate.”
Banks lips twitched.
“I guess so,” he rumbled.
The waitress finally arrived, and I was surprised to see her sit down a beer in front of me.
“I didn’t order a…”
“I ordered it for you,” Mack said. “You’re not driving home, remember? I am?”
I frowned. “But I drove. I can’t leave my car here overnight. I have to be at the Valentine place early tomorrow to meet a few contractors with their checks and check out the job site. I also have to be at the coffee shop a little after eight to help with the morning rush.”
“I’ll get your car home,” Banks offered.